o33 
R%9 



A. N 



O II AT I ON 



BEFORE THE 



RE-UNION SOCIETY 



OF 



VERMONT OFFICERS, 



IX TIIK 



Representatives' Hall, Montpelier, Vt., 



November 4, 1869. 



By GEN. WMi W. GROUT, 

I! A RTOX . VT. 



H A lU'll N : 

E. II. WEBSTEB, PRINTER. 

1 8 69. 




Class ^533 
Book, G*1 



A N 



ORATION 



BEFORE THE 



RE-UNION SOCIETY 



OF 



VERMONT OFFICERS. 



IN THE 



Representatives' Hall, Montpelier, Vt. 



November 4, 1869. 



By GEN. WM. W. GROUT, 

BARTON, VT. 



barton: 

E. H. WEBSTER, PRINTER. 

1869. 



£Lb33 



CyWA\ -**** 



MA.AA^t^ 






Joint Resolution ^providing for the printing of 
Gen. Grout's oration before the Re- union So- 
ciety of Vermont Officers. 

Whereas, The ovation of Gen. William W. Grout, delivered 
before the Re-union Society of Vermont Officers during the 
present session, would be, if preserved, a valuable acquisition to 
the history and literature of the State; therefore 

Resolved by the Senate and House of Representatives, Thai 
the Clerk of the House and Secretary of the Senate, be, and are 
hereby directed to procure the printing of one thousand copies 
thereof, for the use of the General Assembly. 

G. W. GRANDEY, 

Speaker of the House. 
GEO. N. DALE, 

Prest. pro tern of the Senate. 
Passed November 9, A. D. 1869. 

STATE OF VERMONT, ( 

Office of Secretary of State. \ 

I hereby certify that the foregoing is a true copy of the origin- 
al, now on file in this office. 



, My hand and the seal of this office, at 
-j L. S. |- Montpelier, this 14th day of December, 1869. 
( s^w GEO. W. WING, 

Deputy Secretary of Statt . 



ORATION. 



Mr. President and Comrades : — Ladies and Gen- 
tlemen : 

Vermont, the first-born into the family of States, 
achieved her existence through the military prowess of 
her people. She was the legitimate child of war. This 
was true, not only of her population, at the time of her 
admission into the Union, but was equally true of her 
territory ; which, from time immemorial, seems to have 
been set apart as a species of martial arena — dedicated 
to hostile expeditions and enterprises. The aboriginal 
tribes, even, were wont to regard it as neutral ground. 
The fierce Pequots upon the south, the warlike Iroquois 
on the west, and the blood-thirsty Coossucks and wild 
tribes of the* St. Francis on the north and northeast, 
had — for how many centuries no tongue or pen can 
tell — looked upon these Green Mountains as a sort of 
charmed yet fated spot ; common, as a hunting and 
battle ground, to all, but safe, as a home, for none. 
Hence, upon the exploration of this part of the con- 
tinent, the territory of Vermont, except a narrow 
strip along Lake Champlain, was found uninhabited 



by human kind. Constantly traversed by the sur- 
rounding tribes, in their hostile expeditions against 
each other, it must have been the theatre of the most 
appalling Indian conflicts; and had come to be regarded, 
as is the brief space between contending armies — 
dangerous ground; nor was this condition improved 
during the colonial period, but much the same state 
of things was continued. 

In the early dawn of the seventeenth century, the 
spirit of adventure and discovery being at its height 
in Europe, Sir Jacques Cartier, the celebrated French 
navigator of St. Malo, discovered Canada and the St. 
Lawrence; and straightway the French crown, under 
the law of nations, laid claim to all that vast territory 
drained by the St. Lawrence and its tributaries — in- 
cluding, of course, the great chain of lakes. Later. 
the pious Marquette, to whom, equally with Cham- 
plain, " the salvation of one soul was of more conse- 
quence than the conquest of an empire," bore the 
cross of the Jesuit fathers westward even to the banks 
of the Mississippi — the mouths of which were after- 
wards discovered by LaSalle, another Frenchman; 
which, under the same law, gave the great valley to the 
French also. Meantime the English,through discovery, 
purchase and conquest, had taken possession of the 
entire Atlantic seaboard, from Maine to Georgia; and 
had pushed their settlements northward into the inte- 
rior, towards Vermont, as far as Greenfield. With the 
French thus upon the north and the English upon 
the south — and they old-time enemies, and not only at 



7 

war at home, but, from the very first, fiercely contend- 
ing for the supremacy here in the new world — the ter- 
ritory of Vermont, during that series of Indian and 
colonial wars which run through nearly a century and 
a half, was still dangerous ground — the pathway of 
advancing and retreating armies, and the lurking place 
of their savage allies. It was still uninhabited. No 
set of men had then been found brave enough, to un- 
dertake the work of wresting, from nature's grasp, 
these rugged hillsides and mountain slopes. And it was 
not until 1759, when, in that decisive "contest for em- 
pire" on this continent, before the walls of Quebec, 
between Wolfe and Montcalm, England was victorious; 
and by the treaty of Paris which followed, Canada 
was ceded to Great Britain, that the territory of Ver- 
mont was relieved of these dire influences of war and 
her colonization undertaken; chiefly .by bold adven- 
turers, who had taken note of the capabilities of her 
soil and climate in their marches and countermarches 
across her territory, daring the wars that had preceded. 
These men, under grants from a Royal Governor. 
had carved out for themselves homes in this mountain 
wilderness, and had here set up in peace their Lares 
and Penates. Suddenly, however, this territory — 
which no one during the centuries back, not even the 
Indian tribes had dared to own — so excited the cupidity 
of outsiders, that it was deemed common prey by the 
surrounding colonies; and was claimed in part by 
New Hampshire and Massachusetts, and wholly by New 
York. And — as if this region, so long shunned bv 



8 

man and left to the wild antics of war, would not, 
without strife, be subject to civilization — these claims, 
which as all know were resisted with spirit by the 
brave men whose firesides were at stake, culminated 
in a series of disputes characterized by violence and 
bloodshed; and this brings me to > say, that for more 
than a quarter of a century before the admission of 
Vermont into the Union, her people had held the atti- 
tude of armed resistance to the encroachments of an 
unwarrantable jurisdiction. 

When the colonists first remonstrated and then re- 
volted against the unjust exactions of England, it was 
no new subject to the hardy independent pioneers 
upon the New Hampshire grants. They had, before 
that, petitioned the crown and remonstrated with 
grasping governors in vain ; and had already drawn 
the sword, and for the maintenance of their rights, 
had — through their chosen leader — declared them- 
selves "ready to retire to the caves of the mountains 
and wage an eternal warfare against human nature." 
The spirit of resistance to the mother country, which 
had been " aroused in Massachusetts by that sanest of 
madmen, James Otis; in Virginia, by that bold and 
fiery patriot, Patrick Henry, and in South Carolina by 
the lofty, fearless and eloquent Gadsden" — was more 
than answered in Vermont, by the record then already 
made, by the invincible Allen and his brave Green 
Mountain boys — against the New York Sheriffs and 
Surveyors, as well as against Col. Reid's tenants and 
the Durhamites. 



9 

The very genius of liberty itself, seems to have been 
derived by these men, from the free mountain air 
which they breathed, and from the wild and rugged 
surroundings of nature, in the midst of which, they 
dwelt. They were, from the very first, of that class 
of devout disciples of liberty, whose patriotism took 
a, practical turn; and whose faith in bayonets and bul- 
lets was more than orthodox. Hence, when the col- 
onists raised the continental standard and the tide of 
war, first under Carleton, and then under Burgoyne, 
swept up from the St. Lawrence and overrun our nor- 
thern border, the Green Mountain boys — forgetting 
for the time all minor wrongs — promptly changed 
front and gave battle to the common enemy ; and as 
the result Ticonderoga, Crown Point and Bennington 
were among the trophies of Vermont valor in the^rs^ 
war of the Republic. 

In 1812, the Vermont soldier — not stopping to con- 
sult the oracle of party spirit, but answering the 
puerile order of a misguided executive, with the same 
patriotic formula that Epaminondas did his supersti- 
tious monitors of old — again, 

" His sword bravely draws, 

And asks no omen but bis country's cause." 

Asks not even the pardon of an offended Governor 
and commander-in-chief, in and over the State. In 
that crisis, to the credit ^of Vermont, her sons, with 
something still of the spirit of Allen and Warner, disre- 
garded that ill-timed proclamation: "to forthwith re- 
turn to the respective places of their usual residence 
within the State"— and replied in that remarkable 



10 

language : " We shall not obey your Excellency's order 
for returning ; and would inform you that an order or 
invitation to desert the standard of our country will 
never be obeyed by us — although it proceeds from the 
Governor and captain general of Vermont." 

Thus, in 1812, did Vermont boys aptly meet mani- 
festo with manifesto : and, in observance of the only 
law for the true soldier^ marched to the sound of the 
enemies' guns at Plattsburgh — and, after the brisk 
little cotillon on that bright September morning, Sir 
George Provost — deeming " discretion the better part 
of valor," under cover of the following night, hastily 
packed his kit, and with his British regulars — like 
the Arabs — 

" Folded his tents 

And silently stole away." 

Thus did Vermont soldiers, in spite of an unwilling 
executive, fight their way upon the record into the 
second war of the Kepublic ; and afforded our gallant 
little State the proud distinction, of having furnished 
a large part of that raw militia, before which, a supe- 
rior number, even, of veteran troops — trained to war 
under the Duke of Wellington — had hastily retreated. 
Glory enough, sure, for Vermont in that war. 

In the slight skirmish with Mexico, the enlightened 
public sentiment of Vermont, already well educated 
in the school of equal rights, could feel no special 
pleasure in responding to a call from the constituted 
authorities for troops. Our people looked upon the 
war as waged for the extension of human slavery, and 
the opening up of new marts for the trade in human 



11 

blood ; against which, every noble impulse of the Ver- 
mont heart revolted. Nevertheless, war had been 
declared ; the flag of the country had been unfurled ; 
and the honor of the nation was at stake. Vermont- 
ers saw this, and could not suppress the feeling, that 
the war, after declaration, was their war; the flag, 
when unfurled, was their flag ; and the honor that was 
at stake was their honor. Neither could they consent 
that the record of the State, so brilliant in previous 
wars — then in their keeping — should suffer stain or 
blemish through their defection. Perhaps they had 
in their mind the proud position accorded their State, 
in the geography of their school boy days ; which — 
while it made New Hampshire famous for her mountain 
scenery, Maine for her lumber, Massachusetts, Rhode 
Island and Connecticut for their manufactures — said of 
Vermont : that she was " celebrated for the part taken 
by the Green Mountain boys in the war for independ- 
ence." However this may be, she at least, did her 
duty. She voted men and money for the war. She 
filled her quota from the bravest of her sons,fbut few 
of whom lived to return to the State. Among the 
number, thus laid, a sacrifice, upon her country's altar, 
was the gifted and lamented Ransom. 

Such, in brief outline, is the military history of 
Vermont previous to the late slaveholders' rebellion; 
when, of a sudden, with hardly a note of warning, 
the glare of battle lit up Sumpter's walls. Instantly, 
as from profound sleep, the nation was aroused from 
the lethargic repose of a long peace; the enervating 



12 

influences of which had, in Vermont, disarmed and 
disbanded her entire militia, save a few independent 
companies; in which, as the type of the Vermont 
soldier — to slightly amend the great poet — " the native 
hue" of Vermont's early resolution was, seemingly, 
"sicklied o'er with the pale cast" of home-guard effem- 
inacy. "Whether really so or not, let the bloody 
record of the 34,000 men who went out from Vermont, 
leaving home and its endearments, friends and their 
society, and voluntarily endured the ennui of the 
camp ; the fatigue of the inarch ; the loneliness of the 
solitary midnight watch; the chill of the bivouac; 
the disease and death of the hospital — and all the in- 
describable horrors of [the battlefield make answer. 
Yes ! let that record, so replete with glory, make an- 
swer. But here, I shrink from the task before me. 
How shall I, in fitting words, pass in review the hero- 
ism, the endurance, the sufferings, the gallantry and 
indomitable bravery of those men? How, also, suit- 
ably portray the sacrifices, the heart-longings, the 
mental ^struggles, the keen anguish, the deep sorrow, 
the tears and the prayers of Vermont homes — during 
those four eventful years — which, though still fresh in 
the memory of all, yet, already, seem like a dream or 
a tale that is told ? 

I shall not undertake to give a detailed account of 
the different Vermont organizations, nor of the special 
claims of each to honorable mention. This field has 
been already, fully canvassed in previous addresses be- 
fore you — and I shall content myself, in the brief space 



13 

to which, by the proprieties of the occasion, I am 

limited, with some hasty allusions to those crises of the 
struggle in which Vermont troops participated. But 
first, a word about the character of that struggle. 

In lamenting the death of those twin patriots of the 
revolution, Adams and Jefferson, (which it w r ill be 
remembered occurred on the fiftieth anniversary of our 
independence,) Webster said: "No age of the world 
will ever come, in which the American revolution will 
appear less than it really is; one of the greatest events 
in human history. No age will ever come, in which it 
will cease to be seen and felt, on either continent,that 
a mighty step, a great advance, not only in American 
affairs, but in human affairs, was made on the 4th of 
July, 1776." The cardinal truth which has made 
that day immortal, (but which, from some of his after 
utterances, it would seem Mr. Webster must have for- 
gotten,) was — that "all men are created equal." 

That was the proposition, that echoed round the 
world with such alarming emphasis — shaking thrones, 
and carrying consternation and dismay to titled digni- 
taries and highborn aristocrats everywhere. What 
else could it have been? Certainly, not a mere dec- 
laration of independence by the colonies from home 
rule; for that was no new thing in history. Since 
the quarrel between the herdmen of Lot and Abraham — 
and the division of the world which followed — there is 
hardly a chapter in human affairs, either sacred or 
profane, in which man is not found, constantly setting 
up for himself. But never before was the equality of 



14 

man declared. This, alone, lifted the declaration 
above the common level of even-day philosophy, and 
must have been the '? mighty step'' alluded to by the 
great statesman. And it was truly a "mighty step" 
for any sot of men to assert as one of the fundamental 
principles of government, that " all men are created 
equal." The poor equal to the rich; the weak equal 
to the strong ; the common people equal to the nobil- 
ity; even the beggar in rags, equal to the king in 
courtly apparel, who, the world had been taught, ruled 
by divine right. All who bore God's image "created 
equal" before the law. Equal in those inalienable 
rights, "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." 
Yes! all created equal heirs of liberty. So said the 
declaration. As an abstract proposition it was true; 
but in point of fact it was a splendid lie. The mil- 
lions of human beings held, in the galling fetters of a 
worse than Egyptian bondage, pronounced it false. 
It was simply a declaration — such as lawyers make — 
which, as every one knows, without proof, goes for 
nothing. The fathers did not supply the proof in 
support of this bold allegation. They attended only 
to .the "law sale" of the case; and when they closed 
the testimony on that point, with Cornwallis, at York- 
town, supposed they had made good, in all essentials, 
their declaration, and were entitled to judgment in 
chief. This was a great mistake. All was quiet, 
however, tor a little time; but soon difficulties arose. 
The silver-tongued Clay suggested compromise — and 
36° 30' Avas agreed upon, as a substitute, for the dec- 



15 

laration. Only think of it! north of (hat imaginary 
line it was agreed "all men were born free and equal." — 

south, some to freedom, and alas! some to slavery. 
The higher-law men cried : six! and invoked theiudg- 
ment of God. The slaveholder, girt about with cot- 
ton, and waxed strong and insolent, very soon snapped 
his fingers at the line 36 s 30' — and, through a truck- 
lino- judiciary, tacked on Dred Scott as an amend- 
ment; which made the declaration read: "the negro 
has no rights which the white man is hound to respect." 
Meantime, public opinion throughout the civilized 
world — always a little cynical, and not without some- 
thing of justice, towards what it had termed the hol- 
low pretensions of this country to liberty — said : that 
judgment had already, been too long 'suspended ; that 
the American people had utterly failed in their decla- 
ration, and ought to have suffered non-suit and been 
turned out of court long before. Such was the situ- 
ation, when, in 1800, the people — with conscience and 
pride both stung to the quick — declared, by solemn 
verdict, in the election of Abraham Lincoln: that no 
more free territory should he passed over to slavery. 
Slavery defiantly answered: vested rights! the divine 
sanction! secession! and appealed to arms. Thus came 
up to the last tribunal of earthly resort — the arbitra- 
ment of the sword — the "equity ^ide n of this great 
question in the declaration ; which, for more than fifty 
years, had shook the fabric of this government to its 
very base; and which — before it was finally settled at 
Appomattox — invoked the largest chancery powers of 



16 

the great heart of a great man, and taxed to the ut- 
most, the physical resources, the patience, the tenacity, 
and the courage of the American people. It was 
sought, for a time, to cary on the war constitutionally ; 
for the preservation of the Union alone — wholly ig- 
noring the declaration; but, like the ghost of the 
murdered Banquo, this great question would not 
"down;" not even at the bidding of Senates, and 
Cabinets, and Commanders. It shook the "gory 
locks" of 4,000,000 slaves in the face of Abraham 
Lincoln, and called the great Chancellor above, to 
witness that he "made of one blood all the nations of 
men." Right, at last, prevailed; and the proclama- 
tion which followed, striking off the shackles of the 
enslaved, returned to first principles; reiterated and 
made practical the truth in the declaration that " all 
men are created equal." Straightway the constitu- 
tion, by amendment, was made to conform therewith — 
and, suddenly, as light after an eclipse, England's 
boast, through her gifted Mansfield,became our boast — 

" Slaves cannot breathe in our land; if their lungs 
Receive our air, that moment, they are free." 

Such was the character of the struggle, from the 
Vermont standpoint. Our people, from the first,, 
looked upon the contest as one of ideas and principles, 
and as but the closing out of the Revolution of '70 — 
in which, the fathers but half did the work; making it 
a revolution, not merely in the external forms of ad- 
ministration — but in the great principles which under- 
lie the very foundations of government itself. And 
such has been the constancy of Vermont, to these prin- 



17 

ciples of liberty and equality, ever since she opened 
the revolution on the 14th of March, 1775, by break- 
ing up the royal court at Westminster (which, by the 
way, Massachusetts never could understand, was before 
the affair at Lexington in the April after,) and such 
her devotion thereto, that for years she had been known 
in the galaxy of states, as "the star that never sets." 
As an incidental outcropping of these principles, her 
judiciary long since decided — on requisition for the 
return of a fugitive from slavery, — that before a Ver- 
mont court, nothing short of a bill of sale from the 
Almighty, would give man, title to his fellow man. 

Imbued with such sentiments, signalized with such 
a birth and early history as we have seen, and crowned, 
too, with such heroism in former wars — who need in- 
quire : what of Vermont during that struggle ? Who 
could doubt, that Vermont would throw her whole soul 
into the conflict? Who could doubt, that when the 
clarion of war should sound, Vermont would be ready 
for the fray? 

To prove this, need I recount how, from hillside and 
valley, and mountain fastness, Vermonters rallied at 
the call; how the farmer left his plow, Putnam like, 
to rust in the furrow ; how, from every department of 
industry in the State, and from every walk in social 
life; — how, from the cottage and the villa, men came 
forth with the blessing of mother and sister, of wife 
and lover; — the fair ones, even, emulating the lofty 
example of the revolutionary matrons, who "took 
down, from its hanging place on the wall, the trusty 



18 

firelock, and handing it to husband, brother or son, 
said, go! and in God's name, strike for liberty." 

Need I follow these men to the field, and remind you 
that Vermont, with her armor on, was in the first bat- 
tle of the war ; and how, ever after, wherever Vermont 
troops were stationed, whether in the department of 
the gulf, beneath a burning sun, in the midst of malaria 
and fever ; or with the oft-beaten but never defeated 
Army of the Potomac — through the blood and carnage 
of her forty battles ; whether in the valley under Sher- 
idan, or at Port Hudson under Banks ; whether in 
camp, or on the march; whether giving, or receiving 
battle ; how, everywhere, at all times and under all 
circumstances, Vermont soldiers did their duty, and 
preserved unsullied, the ancient honor of the State? 

Need I recite the deeds of these brave men upon the 
Peninsula, at Antietam, Fredericksburgh, the Wilder- 
ness — where the "old brigade," through a terrible 
slaughter which cost more than a thousand men,saved 
the 2d Corps from capture, and the left wing of the 
army from ruin, — Spotsylvania, Cold Harbor, and the 
final conflict which drove the enemy from their en- 
trenchments in ' front of Richmond ? Need I follow 
Early, in that stealthy but rapid march on Washington, 
in July, 1864, by which he expected to surprise and 
capture the capitol? — but how he found the Gth Corps, 
"with the Vermonters ahead and the column well closed 
up," — only twenty-four hours from Lee's front at 
Peters] mrgh, 150 miles away — on the ground, disput- 
ing his passage into the city; and how, foiled, the 



19 

rebel general sulkily withdrew to the valley, and was 
afterwards slightly hurried at Winchester and Cedar 
Creek; and how, uncivil though it was. the Vermont- 

ers are said to have had a hand in the hurrying. 

Need I more than name to Vermont soldiers, Get- 
tysburg^, where, for three days, everything hung 
trembling in the balance? The importance of that 
battle, in both a military and political point of view, 
however much augmented, can never be exaggerated. 
Lee, flushed with his signal victory over Hooker at 
Chancellorsville, had boldly taken up his line of march 
for the great centers of wealth and population in the 
free States; and proposed, by giving the North a taste 
of war, to conquer a peace on Northern soil. The 
political horoscope was deemed favorable for this coup 
de main. The anti-war party was everwhere active. 
Many, openly, and more covertly, were demanding 
peace, and denouncing the war as a failure. The mob- 
in New York, had already organized in resistance to 
the draft, and were awaiting the arrival of their breth- 
ren from Lee's army — then in the heart of Pennsyl- 
vania. The military situation, too, was most dismal. 
The Army of the Potomac, beaten at Bull Pain, driven 
from the Peninsula, fooled at Antietam, and again 
badly beaten at Fredericksburgh and Chancellorsville — 
in which two last battles there was an aggregate loss 
of more than 30,000 men, and not an inch of ground 
gained, — had. sober, but undismayed, followed Lee into 
Pennsylvania, and were sullenly hanging upon his rear 
and flank, covering Washington and Baltimore. In no 



20 

other quarter was the sky more propitious. Along 
the coast, our armies were at a stand-still. MilrojhacI 
been overwhelmed at Winchester. Grant — then but 
a major general and in the infancy of that career, 
which has since rivalled the fame of the brilliant Duke 
of Marlborough; who, history says: "never besieged 
a city he did not capture, nor fought a battle he did 
not win" — still stood before the frowning entrench- 
ments of Vicksburgh. Though himself confident, the 
country doubted. Banks, in the heart of a hostile 
region, remote from his base, was confronted by a force 
superior to his own, and could only await events in 
other quarters. Such, was the political and military 
situation when, on the first of July, 1863, Lee, deem- 
ing his battallions invincible, -resolved to wipe out the 
Army of the Potomac — the only hindrance to his 
splendid schemes; and, suddenly turning, fell like a 
thunderbolt upon the 1st Corps, under Reynolds, at 
Gettysburgh. This was a signal for the concentration 
of the Army of the Potomac ; and the gallant Sickles, 
who had positive orders to hold Emmitsburgh, "at all 
hazards," and be ready to concentrate on Pipe Creek, 
a line fifteen miles to the rear — at neither of which 
places was there any enemy, nor anything to do, — 
promptly pushed his corps in the direction of the fight- 
ing ; and reached the field in season to save the rem- 
nant of the 1st Corps from utter annihilation, and the 
1 1 th Corps the necessity of further "tall running," — 
for that day at least. About, the same time the 2d 
Vermont Brigade, under our own Stnnnard, took up 



21 

. its place in the thinned ranks of the 1st Corps. The 
darkness, which closed in upon the disasters of that 
day, was not more oppressive, than the gloomy forebod- 
ings which filled the hearts of the American people. 
The fragment of the army, then in line, also shared, 
in a measure, those forebodings. The 10,000 killed, 
wounded and missing, in that first day's work, was 
fully one-eighth of Meade's entire force— only about 
one third of which then confronted the enemy. The 
whereabouts of the rest of the army, with its com- 
mander, was unknown; at least to the men and sub- 
ordinate officers. Unless it came up, the second 
day could be but a repetition of the first. 

Welcome disturbances, to the weary sleepers that 
night, were the short, sharp commands: halt! front! 
right, or left dress ! as the case might be ;— which 
commands run through much of the night, and inter- 
vals of the next day, until about 4, p. m. ; when, by a 
forced march of 36 miles, the 6th Corps— "Sedgewick's 
gamecocks,"— "with the Vermonters still ahead," 
wheeled into line, and the Army of the Potomac was 
ready for battle ;— in fact, then more than an hour 
briskly engaged. And here, in passing, a word about 
the accidental manner in which it became engaged ; 
as at least new to some. 

General Meade reached the field, during the night, 
after the first day's fighting, and in the morning, over- 
looked the situation and was dissatisfied. He thought 
Pipe Creek a better place. ' General Sickles had, the 
day before, sent word to Meade from Emmitsburgh, 



22 

that he had gone to the relief of Howard, at Gettys- 
burg}].; and suggested the propriety of concentrating 
at that point. Thus, the responsibility of that selec- 
tion was largely upon him; and with true manliness, 
himself took the only weak place, in what must be 
conceded, was a naturally strong line for a defensive 
battle ; and it should be remembered that we were 
then on the defensive. Under these circumstances, 
Sickles, perhaps made a little anxious by the adverse 
judgment of Meade, and because, too, of the exposure 
of his position, thought to improve it by occupying a 
ridge in his front; and moved out for that purpose. 
But the practiced eye of Lee, it seems, had caught 
this same ridge; — as threatening round-top hill on 
our left, which, in turn, threatened the whole federal 
position ; and had ordered Longstreet to take posses- 
sion of it, which he was then in the act of doing. 

Thus, in manoeuvering for the crest of this ridge, 
Sickles, with his corps and the whole left wing of the 
army, became unexpectedly engaged; — to the great 
chagrin of Meade, who was still intent upon falling 
back to his favorite position near Taneytown. Some 
have spoken of this step, on the part of Sickles, as 
unfortunate. In my judgment, history will record it 
otherwise. It is not my purpose, however, on this 
occasion, to defend it; my only object is to show, how 
that step precipitated the engagement, and prevented 
the possible retreat of the army to Pipe Creek. 

" A grain of dust, 
Soiling our cup, will make our sense reject, 
Fastidiously, the draught we did thirst for ; • ■ 

A rustv nail placed near the faithful compass, 
Will sway it from the pole, and wreck the argosy." 



23 

That movement of Sickles, was the "rusty nail," 
which drew to "wreck, the argosy" of the rebellion. 
Only for that, the battle of Gettysburgh might never 
have been fought, — for at that very moment Meade was 
in council with his corps commanders, on the question 
of falling back ; to which, Sickles, though summoned, 
had not reported, being busy with his change of posi- 
tion. A second order, however, of a peremptory 
•character, brought him to head quarters ; but he did 
not dismount. His corps was already fiercely attacked, 
in front and flank, by Longstreet, which at once broke 
up the council and turned attention to business. 

Thus, was inaugurated the heavy fighting, of this, the 
great pivotal battle of the war; and for two days, the 
rebel horde surged against the iron wall of the Army 
of the Potomac in vain. For two days, anxiety and 
suspense were depicted on every countenance in the 
land. Should the Army of the Potomac give way, — 
then all was lost. For two days, the heart of the 
great loyal North stood still. All hearts were turned 
to Gettysburgh. The Vermont heart, too, was turned 
to Gettysburgh. Vermont was represented on that 
field, by two brigades of infantry and her regiment of 
cavalry ; and they were not idle. Time, however, 
forbids a detailed statement of the gallantry of each 
organization; besides, the record, which each there 
made, is known to all. So, too, is the honor and 
glory which Vermont there won, in giving the finish- 
ing stroke to the victory, known to all. All know 
how, after frwio days stubborn fighting, during which 



24 

charge after charge, in solid column, had been made 
upon our lines, 15,000 men — the flower of the Army 
of Northern Virginia, — until then held in reserve, were 
massed for one final, desperate assault; and how that 
assault, that last terrible charge of Picket's divi- 
sion, — the topmost wave of that bloody struggle j the 
topmost leave of the rebellion — came surging up 
to the south of Cemetery Hill, and broke harmlessly 
at the feet of Vermont troops ; on whose stern coun- 
tenances was written, with something of Divine illu- 
mination: "Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further; 
and here shall thy proud wave be staid," — and Get- 
ty sburgh was won. Where — according to the felicit- 
ous expression of one* of your number — "the rebellion 
touched high-watermark;" ever after which — accord- 
ing to the eloquence of another,! — " the wave was re- 
fluent." It remains only to be observed, that the 
exact spot, where the rebellion "touched high-water 
mark," was the immediate front of Stannard's brigade 
of Green Mountain boys. This is not mere assertion — 
there is the best authority for it. Gen, Doubleday, 
who commanded the 1st Corps on that day, testifying 
before the committee on the conduct of the war, says: 
" The prisoners, taken, stated that what ruined them, 
was Stannard's brigade on their flank ; and that they 
drew off all in a huddle to get away from it." It 
will be remembered, however, that the Vermonters 
did not let them "get away;" but captured prisoners 
largely in excess of their own numbers — includiug two 

*Col. G. G. Benedict. tCol. W. G. Veazey. 



25 

regimental colors and a battle flag. But the day 
was won, and the country breathed freer. Nexl 
day, July 4th, Pemberton — apprehensive that Grant 
might be inclined to celebrate a little on his ac- 
count, — surrendered Vicfesburgh. Port Hudson fell 
as ripe fruit. Lee lost no time in seeking the 
south bank of the Potomac, and, suddenly, the whole 
situation was changed. Though much heavy fighting, 
really the heaviest of the war, remained to be done, 
yet, the rebellion had received its death blow, — and 
was everywhere on the wane. The Mississippi was 
opened, and its entire length patrolled by our gun- 
boats. Our navy, along the coast, took new courage, 
and added new vigilance to the blockade. The Army 
of the Potomac, forgot its early lessons of how to re- 
treat in good order ; — and ever after fought only to ad- 
vance, Our arms were everywhere successful. Early 
was rudely helped out of the Shenandoah by Sheridan, 
who left the harvests of that fertile valley— the gran- 
ary of Virginia — smouldering ash heaps. Lee, at 
Richmond, was at last in Grant's firm grasp, — from 
which no enemy ever escaped. Sherman had swept 
down from the mountains to the sea; — everywhere 
burning what cotton he could not transport, and with 
torch and levelling ax, had, in the language of his 
famous foraging order: — "'enforced a devastation 
more or less relentless, acording to the measure 
of hostility shown by the inhabitants." Savan- 
nah had fallen, and Charleston in turn, as he 
swung through the Carolinas, — leaving Columbia in 



2G 
flames as he passed.* Then it was. that the rebellion, 
hungry and worn out, began to understand that in 
provoking war, it had, verily, 

" Tempted the fury of his three attendants : 
Loan famine, quartering steel and climbing fire." 

But the rebel armies still held out, and the southern 
people still clung to a cause, that had really been 
doomed since July 4th, 18G3. The Lieutenant Gen- 
eral, however, was at last ready ; and without going 
into particulars, which would reflect a full share of 
glory upon Vermont troops, let it suffice, that. Grant 
closed the war, as Napoleon did the campaign at 
Austerlitz; — "with a clap of thunder." Lee surren- 
dered April 9th ; Johnston, the 14th; Dick Taylor,the 
19th; which was immediately followed by the rebel 
navy, under Commodore Farrand, and Kirby Smith's 
army in Texas. 

Thus, like a dissolving view, the rebellion suddenly 
vanished into thin air; and those who were left of the 
2,688,523 men, who, at the call of their country, had 
come forth from peaceful vocations and devoted them- 
selves, with such singular energy, to the havoc and 
waste of war, nearly as suddenly, glided back again 
to a pursuit of the arts of peace ; — one of the most 
sublime spectacles in the history of the world. These 
men had fought, not for glory or gain; neither for 
ambition of their own, or that of prince or ruler ; — but 
for the integrity and perpetuity of the Union, and for 
the freedom of man. They had left 400,000 of their 
comrades — 5,000 and more of whom were from Ver- 

-lt is hut iu-.t to say, thai General Sherman very smphaticaUj'diBclaimB any Agency, 
in tiir burning of Columbia; and attributes the conflagration to Wade Hampton— who, 
before evacuating, fired large quantities of cotton, in the very heart 01 the city. II 
was, nevertheless, an incidenl of war. 



niont, — on the field; who had bravely met death in 
some one of the many revolting forme, incident to 

war. Left! a sacrifice Tor the sins of the nation : 
the price of Liberty to a race — 

•• Four hundred thousand men, 

The brave, the good, the true, I 

In tangled wood, in mountain glen, 

On battle plain, In prison pen, 

Lie dead for me and yoii ; 

Four hundred thousand of the brave 

Have made our ransomed *"il their grave, 

For me and you ; kind friends, 

For me and you." 

And who can compass the grief or fathom the sorrow, 
which, for them, has since everywhere brooded over 
the land; and which, at their mention, still leaves the 
eye moist and the voice choked. Their ashes are 
sacred, and any eulogium which even the most finished 
eloquence Can offer, in their praise, is utterly futile. 
Words of mine are. certainly, too feeble; and 1 can 
only say in the language of another: 

" Take them, < >. God, our brave, 
The glad fulfillers of thy dread decree; 
Who grasped the sword, for peace, 

And Bmote to save; 
And, dying for freedom, Liord, died for thee." 

Let us, then, turn from the dead to the living; to 
those who were fondly leaning upon the arm of these 
strongmen. stricken down in defense of their CO untry 1 ; — 
to dependent women, to decrepit age and helpless in- 
fancy. These, the wards of the nation, must he. — 
already are amply provided for, and must never be 
neglected. Those too, in our midst — sad reminders 
of the shock of battle, — with an arm or a leg shot 
away, of still suffering from disease Unchecked or 
wounds unhealed, are. equally, objects of tenderesl 



28 

care and solicitude. These last, are still with ns; and 
long may the} 7 survive, to stir, with their mute ap- 
peals, the heart of our busy, thoughtless millions, 
with a constant response to the pleading lines of the 
Scottish bard — 

4 

" The brave poor soldier ne'er despise, 

Nor eount him as a stranger ; 
Remember he was Ids country's staj . 

In day and Injur of danger." 

Let all "remember" this, now that the danger is 
passed ; and anxiety and fear no longer act, as spurs 
upon the flank of drowsy gratitude ; — now, that 

" Grim visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front, 

And — instead of mounting barded steeds, 

To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, 

The soldier's arms are hunt; upas monuments; 

His stern alarums changed to merry meetings ; 

His dreadful marches to delightful measures." 

But here, I am admonished that my hour is passed • 
and that I must detain you only a moment longer. 
I cannot, however, help adverting to some of the first 
fruits of the peace, and to the glorious future of the 
Union, which we now enjoy; — the one achieved, and 
the other preserved, through your valor. Who can 
contemplate, without a thankful heart, the rich herit- 
age of civil and religious liberty, which a kind Provi- 
dence has vouchsafed us ? Who, too, who loves his 
country, and loves the race, can, without emotion, 
cast his eye down the future of this vast, ocean-bound 
Republic ; hereafter, to be in fact, what it has hereto- 
fore only been in name, the land of liberty ; — w r ith no 
crouching slave in all our broad domain? Who, too, 
can calculate the salutary effects of our example; — the 
magnetic influence of which, was felt in every quarter 



29 

of the globe, the moment the flag of treason went 
down, and again, as of old — 

".These thirty and odd States, confederate in one, 
Held their starry stations around the western sun." 

I say it was felt everywhere. Napoleon, quailing 
before the bristling bayonets of our half million vet- 
erans, who had just quelled the greatest rebellion 
which the world ever saw, said, in reply to a little 
note from our premier: give me a little time and I 
will get out of Mexico — and he did ; and the result 
was. in a few months, all that was left of the Mexican 
Empire, was carefully embalmed and sent back to 
Europe, from whence it came — and Maximilian, the 
Arch Duke and Emperor, sleeps with his fathers ; — his 
untimely and violent death furnishing ambitious 
princes a wholesome warning, that on this continent, 
at least, there is no right Divine in a crown. Not 
only this, but the masses throughout Europe, read, in 
the re-establi,shment of our Union, their own deliver- 
ance ; and, breaking aWay from the traditions of cen- 
turies, at once, raised the standard of reform. 

In England, through the necessary concessions of 
Crown and Parliament, the right of suffrage was ex- 
tended ; but this failed to check the liberal wave, 
which, in its flood, has since swept away two Tory 
administrations, and at last placed a Gladstone at the 
head of the British Ministry. 

The Scandinavian north, too, our ancestral land, 
felt the thrill of our victory. Germany, no longer 
willing to brook Austrian despotism, welcomed Prus- 
sian intervention ; and when the famous quadrilateral 



30 

yielded, it was a triumph, no less for German freedom, 
than for the genius of Bismarck. But what is still 
more noteworthy, Austria herself, in turn, seeing that 
the world really does move, is emulating, even out- 
running her neighbors in liberal legislation ; which 
always means liberty for the people. 

Italy, in the German-Italian war, won for herself 
all that Germany did ; and again in 1867, rallying 
under her Garibaldi, dealt a blow at the supremacy of 
the church in temporal affairs, which at once awoke 
the feeble, incoherent mutterings of the Vatican, — 
and started the Pope's nuncios, post haste, for the Em- 
peror of the French; who, once a Republican, now 
wields an iron sceptre, and is a standing apologist for 
tyranny; almost the only monarch, in Europe, whose 
government has not responded to the triumph of lib- 
erty in this. But in France, the early dissolution of 
the Empire, is looked for in the threatened dissolution 
of the Emperor ; after which, if the signs of the times 
may be trusted, the liberty-loving, enthusiastic French- 
man will make another attempt at the establishment 
of civil liberty — perhaps before ; for already, in the 
Corps Legislaiif, and with the masses throughout the 
Empire, is felt the power of the same influences, 
which, in 1792, brought Louis XVI. to the block ; 
and which, establishing the Republic, stirred to its 
centre, not only France, but all Europe, as the tem- 
pest stirs the waters. Already, are the liberal leaders 
demanding that necessary safe-guard of liberty in 
Monarchical governments — a responsible ministry; — 



and already, by the Sbnatus Consultum, is the Empe- 
ror, though unwilling, being limited in his preroga- 
tives, and the rights of the people, at least, nominally: 
extended. And let us hope that this revolution, which 
promises so much, thus far held in check, only by the 
Imperial intimidation, may speedily assert its suprem- 
acy, and be completed by peaceful means ; — and France, 
our early friend, and zealous, yet unsuccessful imitator, 
may be redeemed without bloodshed. 

Spain, also, once the pioneer of all that was bold, 
aggressive and civilizing, but for these last hundred 
years and more, given over to ignorance, vice and 
bigotry, has at last awoke from her degradation and 
imbecility, and through the sword of Prim, and the 
trumpet tongue of Castellar, is inaugurating an era 
of social and political reform ; — not an unimportant 
feature of which, is the sending away the profligate 
and dissolute Isabella, and the saying to the world : 
we have done with the Bourbons. 

Cuba, too, sitting beneath the shadow of our insti- 
tutions, too near to withstand their influence, stimu- 
lated by our example, and copying the lesson of the 
mother country, asks to be free. These, comrades, 
are some of the results of your late victory upon the 
struggling millions, throughout the world, who are 
panting for free institutions. But who shall compute, 
for the ages, the blessings of that victory, not only 
abroad, but at home; and who shall measure its effect 
upon the future of our own country ? It should be 
remembered that we are but yet in our infancy ; — 



32 

only ninety-three years old. Greece saw a thousand 
years, and Rome twelve hundred, before the \* Goth 
and Vandal thundered at her gates;" 

" And massacre sealed her eternal night." 

Proportioned only to our youth is our present great- 
ness. Who shall tell the future under our regeneratecl 
constitution? — As the shock of great battles usually 
arouse the natural elements, and the roar of artillery 
is, after a little, answered by the artillery of the clouds, 
which is followed by the cool, refreshing shower, always 
so grateful to the wounded and weary combatants ; — 
so great wars, almost invariably, arouse to new vigor, 
the energies of man ; and when peace finally comes, 
the civilization which succeeds, is always higher and 
better than the one which went before. If war de- 
stroys, it also creates. If it exhausts, it likewise 
makes strong. All know how the Crusades, which, 
for two centuries, agitated Europe and left her in utter 
prostration, were followed by the revival of letters, — 
which, four hundred years before, were buried beneath 
that barbarian avalanche from the north ; were also 
closely followed by Wickliffe, — "the morning star of 
the reformation," — who arose out of the dark night 
of that middle period, asserting the freedom of con- 
science, — and the emancipation of mankind from the 
thralldom of the Papal See was begun. And, if the 
reaction which followed the terribly depressing effects 
of the holy wars, lifted Europe out of mediaeval bar- 
barism — what triumphs in art and literature, in relig- 
ion, law and liberty, may we not look for, in this new 



33 

era of the Republic ; — with every impulse of our teem- 
ing millions quickened, by the heroic, energizing influ- 
ences of the late war? Let us not, however, lose sight 
of the duties of the present, in any dazzling vision of 
the future. 

Let us, the rather, remember, that upon each succeed- 
ing generation — and now upon this generation — is 
devolved the high work of preserving and trans- 
mitting, uriimpared, our matchless institutions; 
and if our opportunities and privileges are greatj 
in exact proportion, also, are our responsibilities. 
Let us, then, for the work still before us, gather 
wisdom from the past, and inspiration and cour- 
age from the present; and, like Varro — whose 
fidelity to Rome nothing could shake; and who. in 
Rome's greatest trial, when the stoutest faltered, "did ' 
not despair of the commonwealth," — let us, whether 
soldiers or citizens, never waver in devotion to our 
country and the flag; the proud old flag — no less 
proud to-night, as here it hangs in peaceful folds, than 
when flung to the breeze, amid the thunder and hail 
of battle, it beckoned you on to victory. And though 
every conceivable disaster and peril overtake the Re- 
public, let us never lose faith, in the Union of these 
States; — so lately assailed, but through your valor pre- 
served, and cemented anew with your blood and 
sufferings, and the blood and sufferings of your com- 
rades, both the living and the dead — not idly vaunting 
the glories of that Union, nor blindly asserting its 
perpetuity; but, trusting to the republican doctrines 



34 

of equality and self-government, and to the intelli- 
gence and virtue of the people; — let us, comrades, 
under that Union, strive to make the moral and intel- 
lectual grandeur of the Republic, equal to its material 
greatness. Then — without arrogance, and with no 
disregard of the laws of national life and longevity, — 
can we express the hope, that no poet, of this, or any 
future age, may stand amid the ruins of this country, 
and ask of us, — as Byron did of Greece, when he drew 
his sword in defence of religion and liberty, in that 
classic but degenerate land: — 

" Shrine of the mighty, can it be, 
That this is all that's left of thee ?" 




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